We spend a lot of time waiting at the bus stop, which is the end of our driveway. One October day I was idly picking at the place on our enormous pin oak where a chicken-of-the-woods grew out of it two years ago. The huge orange fungus left a big scar on the tree.
I removed a piece of bark just to see what might be behind it. And out tumbled a cold-slowed lizard! For a Science Chimp, it was like hitting a whole row of apples on a slot machine.
It was a juvenile northern fence lizard, Sceloporus undulatus. Probably a female, judging from the pattern of wavy lines running down her back.
In the 19 years we've lived here, I could count the lizard sightings on my fingers and toes. Each summer, we see one or two northern fence lizards, usually right by this tree or scuttling along in the gravel near our garage. The only other lizard spotted here was an enormous male broad-headed skink (!) who turned up in a rotted sill of the garage. It looked like a fat golden kielbasa with a bright orange head. Too big to hold in one hand. Like nothing I'd ever seen before or since. I almost collapsed with excitement. And, but for one juvenile skink (a lovely little thing with orange and black stripes and a blue tail) that's been it for lizards.
Highly territorial, they do lizard push-ups to display this warning coloration to any interlopers. Go see! Adult males are brown with that hard-to-see electric blue underside; females are gray with wavy lines down their backs.
Here's Lizard Voyeur Mary's photo of a couple of extra happy eastern fence lizards. Thanks, Mare! Male above--see how much less patterned he is? Unfortunately you can't see his shocking blue underside. I have yet to see that and am really hoping to someday soon.
Back to my dilemma. I felt terrible, of course, about ruining the lizard's little home. So I wedged the bark back into place, replaced the bewildered inhabitant, and raced home for some glue. I had to rebuild it.
I put a branch up against it to hold it while the glue set.
There followed a long cold spell during which I would occasionally dig down through the debris with my pinky to see the top of her head. Good. Still where she wanted to be.
And then came a glorious warm morning and there she was, sunning on the porch of her little glued-up house. Awww.
A couple of months later, the glue is still holding, but she has moved on. Probably moved on up in the same tree, a little higher-rent place, not so...gluey.













Thursday, December 9, 2010
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